Ghosts of Ourselves
by Waters Dewey
Summary: Matty joined the Regina militia to fight in his planets civil war, not knowing what he was looking for. Now a Mechwarrior, he must live through the horror of war, and deal with the consequences it brings.


**1**

March 3 3029, Horsham

Federated Suns

Matty wanted siblings. What a dumb thought. At 19 he was still lamenting not ever having brothers like his friends growing up. A sister would have done too, but whatever. Maybe his dad couldn't get it up, or maybe his parents were just lazy. Either way he figured that was probably why he had decided to join the military. Being a part of the Regina militia had seemed like a good idea at the time. Now, 10 months later, he walked across the hard ground with wind blowing at his back, and wanted to kick himself for getting into this mess.

The Fourth Succession War was currently raging, so no one really noticed the small planet of Horsham that was just inside the Federated Suns. The AFFS was too busy running amok in the Capellan Confederation to have any sort of forces on the planet. When a civil war broke out on Horsham, it was only with local participants. Well, it was sort of a civil war. Everyone on Horsham was a citizen of the Federated Suns, and that was not the dispute. Since the government on New Avalon had no real presence, de facto countries had come into being. The country of Regina and The Commonwealth of Burrows had been in a long-term dispute over trade routes. Specifically the tariff that Burrows was putting on planetary imports that were bound for Regina. This dispute had become so bitter that it had eventually turned into an all out war. Both the countries had populations of around 18 or 19 million each. In terms of war, it meant that neither side could seem to pound the other side hard enough to win.

As Matty kept on walking, he decided that he really did not care one-way or the other, even though he was a citizen of Regina. Absolutely brilliant idea to join a combat group to fight in a war that he was too lackadaisical to care about. Brilliant. Looking ahead, he saw his friend Wolf sitting on the side of a _Fury_ heavy tank. Wolf's appearance did not match his name well. He was gaunt, and had light brown hair. Not malnourished, just gaunt. With a quick hop, Matty got up on the tank and sat down.

"Wolf, next time I'm in a mech, I'm gonna straddle your tank and take a piss on you."

"Fuck off"

Matty grinned, "Never happen, you'd miss me too much."

"Maybe if you weren't such a jerk, _maybe._" And how.

"You hear anything about new orders coming through? Maybe when we get assigned, they'll stick us somewhere warm. Near water maybe." Growing up, Matty had spent a lot of time on sailboats since his Dad was a marine biologist. He _loved_ sailing.

"Well rumor had it yesterday that we were being deployed to the mountains in Mendham, then it was the Carson valley, then it was the mountains again, or it wasn't because we were getting reassigned here."

"Snafu." Which of course stands for Situation Normal, All Fucked Up.

Wolf let out a chuckle and unzipped the pocket of his winter fatigues. After fishing around, he withdrew two cans of beer and tossed one to Matty. Slacking on duty, one of his special talents. Sure fire way to the top. Field Marshall in a year. They both cracked open their beers and took a gulp.

"Where did you get these? Frankly, I'm impressed."

Wolf gave a mysterious smile.

"Haven't the slightest idea."

Matty contemplated the answer, shrugged, and said, "Well keep it up. You, me, and everyone we know might die of boredom otherwise."

He thought about how lucky he was to have gone through training when Wolf did. Having a friend in a combat zone made it easier to keep from getting bored, and to keep from being scared by the _prospect_ of combat.

Combat zone in this case, was really a misnomer. For one there was no combat. For two, combat did not seem forthcoming. Matty's militia unit had for the last month been posted in an area known as Fire Forest. The irony was lost on no one. Fire Forest had no real strategic importance aside from being a small supply dump, and a rotational base. Part of the reason his unit was posted out in the countryside was because it was small. It could boast a reinforced lance of five mechs, three assorted tanks, and two companies of infantry. Big time muscle. This also meant that at anytime, they could be shifted to the front, and judging by the length of time they had been there, everyone knew that orders to move out would be coming.A trooper walked past the tank, and called out to Wolf and Matty.

"Staff meeting in 15."

Great. Gotta love breaking the monotony with more monotony. He and Wolf finished up the beer and chucked the cans under the tank to hide the evidence. They ambled over to the command center just in time to grab seats in the back. The guy in charge of the unit was Colonel Rice. He had _allegedly_ been an officer of some sort in the AFFS. He was also _allegedly_ overweight, and _allegedly_ incompetent. When everyone had their seats, Rice began.

"Ok listen up, just a few issues. The new liaison officer from the Standard Agency is coming in tomorrow, so everyone please be presentable, and let your subordinates know to get all their things in order." The Standard Agency was one of a handful of small mercenary units on Horsham. "Secondly, to the support personnel here, we should be getting more rations and supplies in this week. Set up a landing zone and be on the lookout. Lastly, I had a complaint earlier today from one our supply officers. He claimed that he someone stole two cases of beer from the depot." Matty shot a sideways glance at Wolf, who was doing his absolute best not to lose his composure to a fit of giggles. Too late. It always seemed that when you weren't supposed to laugh, you laughed harder. Matty could feel a tear roll from his eye as he tried to bring himself under control. Rice was too oblivious to notice, however, several other people gave them questioning looks. Raised eyebrow.

"Anyone caught stealing will be in serious trouble…. with me, the militia, the _police,_ who gives a shit? Don't do it." Emphasis on police.

There were some questions from the staff on hand, but beyond that the meeting was over. Matty smirked as he and wolf walked out of the command center.

"Uh Wolf… may I ask where you managed to stash two cases of beer?"

"Well, if I ever have to move my tank, you might find out." Right.

* * *

Everything was pretty much on autopilot these days. Patrol, maneuvers, staff meetings, drills, repeat. Patrol was the worst though. It was a guaranteed complete waste of time since they were stationed in the rear. Matty figured that everyone shared his sentiment judging by the way his lance was formed. Picture perfect. Not even close. They walked in a staggered line, crashing through a light forest. From right to left was a _Hatchetman, Jenner,_ Matty's _Sentinel, _a_ Hunchback_, and Colonel Rice taking up the rear in his _Thug_. Looking out his view port, he could see the words "comeback kid" painted on the side of the _Hatchetman's_ melee weapon for which it was aptly named. It seemed ballsy, cool. He would have to think of a clever tag for his mech.

The lance patrolled for another two hours before they finally came back into the base perimeter. After getting himself disengaged from his mech, Matty thought it was definitely time for bed, and had all intentions of getting to the barracks as quick as possible. As he walked across the repair bay, the pilot of _Hatchetman_ named Kennedy came trotting up. He liked Kennedy, the kid was quiet and polite, but had a mischievous streak that kept things interesting.

"Yo Matt! Me an' a couple of the tankers are goin' down to the bar. You up for it?"

Alcohol would only compound the exhaustion.

"No thanks. One beer and I'd be asleep. Definitely next time though."

"Well this is one thirsty mech-jock, so I'll see ya later."

Kennedy left with a quick nod, and hurried off in the other direction. It was time for sleep, no question. Once he got back to his bunk, he quickly unzipped his jumpsuit and crashed face first onto his cot. Sleep came quickly, bringing with it dreams of being back on the boat without a care in the world. In what seemed like seconds, the boat dissolved and he could hear someone saying his name. Slowly waking up and focusing his eyes he could see Wolf in the dim light, his alarm clock reading 0300.

"Jesus, I'm up man. I'm up. What is it?"

"It just came through, we got deployment orders." Instantly awake.

"Where?"

"Carson Valley." Front lines. Shit.

"When?"

"Right now, Colonel says sattle up. All of the gear is already being packed. Time to go man."

Shit.


End file.
